


Kinktober 2020

by CutiePie4173



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Edging, F/M, Fluff, Gaslighting, Humiliation, Hypnotism, Kinktober 2020, Mind Control, Modern AU, Mutual Masturbation, Orgy, Phone Sex, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teasing, handjobs, old flame, tags will update as fic does
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CutiePie4173/pseuds/CutiePie4173
Summary: KINKTOBER 2020!With the help of a few friends on discord, I will be posting some lovely smutty goodness in honor of the season. Everything from genderfuckery to threesomes to humiliation - I like to give the people what they want. All chapters are titled with their prompts - I guarantee there will be something in here you like.So please... Enter my little House of Pleasure...
Relationships: Christine Daaé & Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Erik & Nadir Khan, Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Nadir Khan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	1. Mind Control

It started like it had every night for weeks. Christine would sit in the dressing room, upon the plush velvet chaise, and wait. Wait for hours, it felt like. Sometimes she brought a book, sometimes not. Tonight she laid back against the maroon fabric, eyes closed, and she let herself get lost in thought.

In had been a few months since the Angel had first spoken to her. Well, she supposed he had spoken to her since she had first come to the opera, but the first time he had given her special attention. She remembered it well - she had just been singing a soft tune her father had taught her, when a voice softly wound through the air like smoke.

_Sing that again._

Three little words. Three little words had drawn her in and now she waited every single night for that voice to grace her again. She yearned to reach out and touch that voice… But the Angel wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she sang and he corrected, she talked and he listened, she pressed her hands against the glass and he whispered sweet words of praise and affection to her before they parted ways.

She wondered what he would look like. Angels took many forms in the Bible - but they could look like humans. Perhaps he would have wings and a ring of light around his face. Or perhaps he would look like any man, hiding amongst the common people to judge their sins. Would he have blonde hair or red? Dark eyes or light? Perhaps he would be alabaster skinned, or skin of mahogany brown.

Before she could nod off to sleep with thoughts of her angel, a soft voice drifted in, caressing her.

“Christine…” It whispered. “You’re early.”

She hopped up from the chaise and stood before the mirror. The voice always seemed to come from different places around the room, but she felt less foolish speaking to her reflection than to the open air. “Yes, angel. I missed you.” It was true - rehearsals had felt sluggish and monotonous that day. With her angel, the time sped forward - he made hours feel like seconds.

The voice chuckled. “I missed you as well, sweet one.”

She melted a bit into herself. Something in that voice made her feel close to swooning as the blood rushed to her face. Her hand touched the cold smooth surface of the mirror, looking into her own half lidded eyes.

“Hmm. Christine… What _are_ you thinking, child?”

Christine did not shrug or gesture, only staring into her reflection. “I…” Her blue eyes shifted down to her feet, lips pursing. “I want to see you. Really see you.” She swallowed and shyly looked back up. “Here.”

The voice was quiet a while. “How do I know this is not a trick?”

She shook her head suddenly, lip quivering. “I swear to you! I would do anything. I wish to see the form that this voice takes!” She was close to clasping her hands and falling to her knees - she needed to see him! It had been months of this torture and she feared madness if she had to go a single day longer!

The voice hummed again. “Anything, you say? Would you obey me?”  
  
In her haze, Christine could not make out the suggestive drawl in the voice. She simply nodded, repeating, “I would obey…”

“Christine…” The voice fell into a delicious purr, almost as if he were whispering in her ear. His tone was slow and rhythmic, and her eyes slowly closed. “You feel relaxed around me, don’t you? You feel safe here. You do not wish to be anywhere else. You feel so safe that you would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” She muttered a soft yes, but the voice did not stop. “You would accept any change in your environment. This is a dream. You are so relaxed and accepting, you will obey. Because you feel safe. And comfortable. There are no consequences. Everything you do feels right. Everything you do will make you perfectly content. You will obey.”

Of course she would. Why wouldn’t she? This was a dream, after all. She had fallen asleep on the chaise lounge - of course she had. She felt so safe here in this place. So safe that when the mirror slowly opened and a figure stepped out into the dressing room, she could only smile. Ah, her angel.

He looked exactly as she expected. Of course he did, this was her dream. He was tall and thin, with dark hair and long, sweeping fingers. His eyes were dark and complexion smooth. Oh! He wore a mask. Of course he did. He was her mysterious angel - and she loved the masquerade. So relaxed, even a bit sleepy. But the warm kind of sleepy, as if she could curl up in his arms and stay there forever, content as a kitten.

He stepped towards her, hands clasped behind him. Oh, he was shy. But why? Everything was fine. Confidently, she stepped towards him and reached to touch him, only to have her wrists ensnared by his own. He said nothing, only looked into her eyes. Oh those deep, golden orbs seemed to stare through her, and the world fell away even more. Dreams were so funny like that.

“You are safe. You are content. You love me. You need me. You will obey.” His words were slow and punctuated. She found herself falling deeper, deeper, deeper into the haze of his sweet words. Her angel…  
  
He muttered something - his soft looking lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear him. Everything was still so hazy and wonderful. And now those lips were moving closer - Oh! Christine let out a soft hum as he tasted her lips, using only a feather-touch pressure. A thrill shot through her stomach, down her legs, and centered in her core. His grip was firm on her wrists and he was pulling her tight against him. Mmm, this dream left so real…

A warm, wetness poked at her lips. A warmth fell over her cheeks and neck as she parted her lips, tasting his tongue. Her mind must truly be sinful to dream such a thing - she had only seen it a handful of times before turning away in embarrassment. A noise - a moan! - sounded from his throat. That noise was so pretty… Even that growling hum sent her deeper into the haze.

His mouth pulled away from hers, lips wet from kisses. Was he done already? No, no, his mouth was simply moving from her lips to her cheeks and her throat.

“Christine… Show yourself to me. Please.”

Oh! He wanted to see her. Of course he did. His hands were winding so carefully around her waist, undoing the tie of her dressing gown. The gauzy fabric fell away, leaving her in only her chemise and stockings. The angel had told her many times that heavy dresses and corsets would restrict her breathing, and being comfortable was important for practicing.  
  
“You are beautiful, my love…” he purred. He knelt before her, kissing her chest, her breasts, her stomach through the thin chemise. His kisses were so soft and gentle as he traveled down her body, stopping just above her hips.

“Thank you… Angel…” Everything was soft under her fingers, especially his hair. It was so dark and striking as he wove it between her fingers. Ah, she could lose herself in this… And his hands were so soft as they teased up her legs. She had to stop herself from jerking backwards at the tickling touch. The rolled her stockings down, stopping to caress the skin with his thumbs. Even softly running them along the arches of her feet as he stripped the stocking from her.

His head tilted upwards at her, cocking curiously. Why was he so serious? He purred again, “You’d be much more comfortable without this chemise.” It wasn’t a question this time. Oh, should she? Even in a dream, this was so sinful… Deliciously so. A smile spread across her lips as she inched the fabric up and swept it up over her head.

Those sweet lips were parted in awe as he stared up at her naked body. His hand, thin and quivering, reached up to rest his hand along her hipbone. The soft warmth of his breath brushed across her thighs and Christine shivered. How could hands be so cold but breath so warm?

Carefully, his hands brushed down from her hips and rested on her soft, supple thighs. His thumbs pulled softly, encouraging her legs to part. Oh… He wanted to _see her_. Her mind barely had time to process as her legs seemed to open by themselves. The mask was only a flash of white as his head flashed forward and a warmth parted her lower lips.

Her legs gave out beneath her at the sudden sensation, but his mouth was relentless. Even as she fell onto the chaise lounge, his hands were parting her legs and his mouth was tasting her. Those moans and gasps… Were they from her? A low baritone moan rumbled from him and she felt it through her entire being. The exquisite feeling of his tongue and lips, like nothing she had ever felt. The strange feeling has given way to sparks under her skin and ecstasy in her blood. The edge of the chaise dug into her hands as she gripped it tightly. Words and thought began to escape her as the feeling built and built and built. He was saying something, but she couldn’t hear over the sound of her own moans and thundering heartbeat.

A scream ripped from her throat like a spirit exorcised and her muscles turned to nothing. A very pleasant warmth spread through her veins as her lungs filled with sweet oxygen. Nothing except perhaps the rush of singing had ever brought her to such a place of pleasure.

He took her hands and kissed them as he pulled her to her feet. How he expected her to stand, she wasn’t sure, but she managed to keep her balance. He shuffled his clothes a bit, and through the haze she watched as he laid down.

“Come, sweet girl, sit atop me so I may gaze upon you.”

Christine giggled a bit and obeyed, kneeling with her legs on either side of his slim waist. His eyes were so full of awe - perhaps he did love her! Oh to be loved by an angel… Her hand reached out to him, tracing along the barren side of his face, his neck, his clothed chest. Pity he couldn’t be naked in this dream with her. But who decides their own dreams?

He shuffled again, and placed a hand on her hips. He wanted her to sit back. Of course she would. It would probably be more comfortable-

Christine gasped loudly. Something was rubbing along her slit, pressing against her lower lips. It felt so warm and hard - she shouldn’t sit upon it. But her body obeyed, and the thing slipped inside her! Her face flushed with heat. It felt strange, not unpleasant. Was it sinful to do these things in dreams? He began to move his hips underneath her, almost freeing the thing from inside her, only to press it back in. The strange feeling gave way to that warm, giddy feeling deep within her.

Every thrust drew her ecstasy higher and higher, causing her eyes to roll back and her grin to grow wider. How could she ever question this? Something so delightful could be nothing but good in the highest regard. She felt no crest this time, only the incredibly pleasant sensation between her thighs. Whatever he was doing… Her angel was truly a fantastical talent. No other man had ever made her feel this way!

After a while, her angel seized and grasped her to him, his lips pressed hard into her temple. His hips moved once, twice, and stopped. The poor dear, he was shaking like a leaf. She reached up a hand to soothe him, stroking his cheek and kissing the skin of his throat. After a long moment, he shifted so she lay on the chaise as he stood. He righted himself and inhaled deeply before turning back to her.

“You’ve done so well, my sweet one… I love you.” Her heart swelled at his words. Even in dreams, he was more than perfection. He knelt to kiss her lips once more before gazing into her eyes. “Now, sleep darling. When you awake, you will feel wonderful. Beyond wonderful. And you will sing to awaken Gods with your loveliness. And you shall tell only me of this dream.”

With that, Christine began to become aware of how tired she was. The new sensations were pleasant, but intense. Her eyes began to droop and she curled into the arm of the chaise. She was vaguely aware of a blanket being thrown over her. The last thing she felt was the press of his lips on her temple, and then nothing.


	2. Dirty Talk

Erik settled into bed, beyond exhausted. Managing the theater was usually fairly simple work for him, but everything that could have gone wrong went terribly. The costume supplier had fucked up and sent the wrong colors, the wig oven was on the fritz again, and his lead actor had a panic attack backstage related to his hypochondria. By the time he had left the theater, it was nearly midnight. He had never been so happy to see his bed.

His head hit the pillow and, of course, his phone rang. Fuck! It was nearly 1am, who the fuck was calling him at this hour. He grumbled and blindly reached for his phone, lazily looking over.

_Christine Daae_

He nearly shot up out of bed. Holy shit.

Erik hadn’t seen Christine in nearly three months since she had nabbed a movie role in Hollywood. The two had promised to schedule some vacation time, but scheduling just kept getting in the way. Erik fondly remembered the way she smiled at him during their Operatic Studies class in college. They had been nearly inseparable for most of college, even living together for a brief time during a summer holiday. Since graduation, the time between seeing each other had been longer and longer… She had gotten engaged, but it broke off due to career stress. They were a lot alike in that way - the music and the show always came first.

He cleared the tired from his throat and tapped the green button. “Hello?”

“Hey.” He smiled to himself - even through the phone, her voice was just as beautiful.

“Christine! Haven’t heard from you in a while,” he replied cooly, stretching a bit. Couldn’t be tired now, not when she was on the line.

“I know, I’m sorry!” She laughed. He heard a soft gasp over the line. “Oh my God, it’s so late over there! I completely forgot the time difference.”

He glanced over to the clock and winced. It was nearly 2am. “No, no, you know me. Always a night owl.” Fuck, he had to be up at 7am. Whatever, she was worth it. He had stayed up for nights on end to listen to her talk before; he would do it a thousand times more.

“You sure? I don’t want to keep you up.” She was always so sweet. Even with his ugly mug, she cared anyway. Some deep part of him could still smell her perfume and feel the soft skin of her hand against his cheek. God, he was a fool for not marrying her back then.

He rolled his eyes. “Christine, you could never keep me awake.” She had kept him awake for dozens of nights, even when she wasn’t there. But he refused to tell her that. “What did you need?”

“Uh…” He raised an eyebrow. That sound meant she wanted something but, being Christine, felt bad for asking. “Well… Honestly, I’m a bit bored.”

“Bored? So I’m entertainment now?” He teased. He’d be her goddamn court jester if she asked him to.

He could almost hear the blush over the phone. “Erik!” She whined. “I meant… lonely. The lonely kind of bored.”

Eyes going wide, he read between the lines. Fuck, they hadn’t done this in years… Had she really not found a new beau out in Hollywood? Steeling himself, he attempted a softer tone. “Lonely, hm? So you’re all alone, no boyfriend or secret husband I should worry about?”

“No…” Her tone was sad. “All the guys out here… I dunno, they all just feel sleazy. Like they want something from me. They’re not like the guys back home - I just can’t date them.”

He chuckled darkly. “Not like me?”

“N-no…” She huffed. “Erik! Are you going to help me or not?”

He smirked, laying back on the pillows. “Of course, my Angel. I just wanted to be sure that you were all mine tonight.” He heard a soft hum on the other side of the line. “Now, lay back darling. Tell me something - what are you wearing?”

It had been years since she had called him and asked him to get her off with his voice. Back in college, she admitted that his voice was the most attractive part about him and he had read her to sleep a hundred times. During their more physical moments, she bit his neck and ran her hand along the front of his jeans just to hear him moan. He even faked it a handful of times, just to feel how wet she would get at just the sound of his voice.

“Absolutely nothing.”

His mouth ran dry. “Show me. Show me and I’ll give you anything.”

There was some shuffling, silence, and his phone buzzed. He pulled the phone from his ear long enough to open her text, jaw dropping. The years had been more than good to Christine Daae - she had grown into herself as their twenties had come and gone. Her breasts and hips were full, and her thighs looked thick - he wanted to sink his teeth into them. She clearly had a personal trainer and she looked very, very healthy. No more skipping meals and staying up for three days straight, surviving only on iced coffee and ramen - no, she was gorgeous.

“Even after all this time, angel, you take my breath away.”

His eyes lingered. The swell of her breasts was perfect at this angle with her nipples already hard and begging to be sucked. He followed the line of her body down, drooling at her perfectly bare pussy. She preferred to stay shaved in college - and he could practically still taste her orgasm on his tongue.

“I want to run my tongue all over you. Kiss and lick the arch of your foot and work my way up. Every inch of you.” He hadn’t quite meant to say that out loud, but the sound of her moan encouraged him. “I miss burying my face between those thighs. I miss licking and kissing your sweet pussy until you begged for mercy…” He grinned at the strangled sound she made.

“Erik… Please… Could you…” She was stuttering out her words. Awww, sweet thing really did miss him. He cocked his head to one side, running his fingers over his thighs as he listened. “Could you… touch yourself?”  
  
Erik groaned softly, immediately slipping his hands into his flannel pajama bottoms. “Do you like knowing I’m touching myself to the thought of you? Or is it those sounds you like so much?” He teased, taking his cock in his hand. Fuck, he was half hard already.

“I… Please… I need you…” she whined.

He chucked, letting his eyes shut as he began to run his fingers along his length. “What? Do you want to touch yourself?” She squeaked an affirmative. “Have you been a good girl? Hands away from that delectable pussy of yours?”

“P-please…” He would kill to have her in his bed. He would rip himself from this bed and board a plane right now if she asked it. To have it be her hand - or god, her lips - around his cock instead of his hand.

He ran his tongue across his teeth and gripped his cock. “Go ahead baby… Touch your clit. No fingers yet.” His mind went wild with possibilities - especially once she began to pant and whine and stutter nonsense in his ear. His hips jerked up against his palm, cock hard now as the phone rattled with sensual noises. “Awww, sweet girl… Poor thing. Why did you call me, anyway?”

It took her a moment to answer, breath uneven. “B-because… No one… No one else sounds l-like y-YOU!” Her voice rose with the last syllable, gasping a high and breathy note. Oh, that sound alone sent a surge through his blood.

“Finger yourself. Touch that sweet pussy. I want to _hear_ those noises… Fuck!” He purred, stroking himself in earnest now. Behind his closed eyelids, he could imagine her: writhing and shaking, her hips bucking to meet her hand. He wanted to lick the drool from her lips as he fucked her. He wanted to wrap his hand around her throat and pin her to the sheets. She would never forget him after that. He had long been addicted to Christine Daae - he wanted her to feel the same.

He hissed through his teeth. “Imagine me, darling. The feeling of my fingers - you always liked my fingers - slipping in and out of you so easily. You’re so wet, love, like a good little slut. God, remember what it felt like when I’d slip this cock in you? How I’d tease those perfect, wet lips…” A whine from the other side, then a shudder. “How I’d sink in deep. And that was just at our dorm, sweetheart. With my own place… I’d do deliciously terrible things to you. Would you like that?”

A high-pitched moan. “Y-yes! Please! I… I’d do anything… Fuck…”

Oh, she was close now. Christine only made such wide, promising statements when she was close. They had never gotten to experiment much beyond fairly vanilla sex (minus a handful of times with the blindfold, as she wanted to fuck without his mask), but now his ind was flooded with images. Oh, he’d claim every inch of her as his own. But it wasn’t enough, he needed more.

“You want to cum, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” She cried. “Please, please, please-”

He didn’t even let her finish. “If you want to cum,” he started, voice turning from silk to a deep, growl. “Tell me the dirtiest fantasy you have. Tell me what you want this cock to do to you.”

Another moan. “I… Erik!” She didn’t want to tell him, but he didn’t care. He hummed, feigning disinterest. “I… I want your cum. Everywhere. I want to feel it when I perform… Fuck me hard in my dressing room so everyone knows! Please, please, please!”

He barked a laugh. “Oh? Christine Daae is a sweet little cumslut? How shameful… And you’d let me cum on those breasts?”  
  
“Yes…”  
  
“And in that mouth?”  
  
“Y-yes…”  
  
“Deep in that sweet little pussy?”  
  
“Yes!” Each moan was getting higher and quieter, like she was really trying.  
  
He paused. “Even that tight little ass?”  
  
“YES!” She sounded on the edge of insanity and, to be honest with himself, the image she had created was more than enough.

“Cum for me, Christine. Say my fucking name.”  
  
The next thirty seconds were a cacophony of moans and gasps from both of them. Erik growled and grit his teeth from the force of his orgasm, feeling the liquid spill over his fingers. He kept stroking anyway, desperate to make the moment stretch on a little longer. He imprinted every little sound from her mouth to memory. Her voice… Her voice was everything to him. And she sang just for him.

A few deep breaths later, and she spoke again. “E-Erik… Thank you.”

He smiled, turning his head into the pillow. Fuck, now he was _really_ exhausted. “Of course, love, anything for you.”  
  
Her voice became small and shy. “I miss you a lot. I’m sorry I haven’t called you.” Another pause. “I’m coming back to New York in a month. Do you think… I could come see you?”  
  
If hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have jumped from his bed. Christine Daae, movie star and love of his life, wanted to come see him. “Darling,” he muttered lazily, “You can move into my goddamn bed. I love you.”  
  
The line was quiet for a moment. Fuck, what had he just said? Damn the haze of post-orgasm, it always made him more honest than he meant to be. He opened his mouth to apologize, but was interrupted.

“I love you too, Erik. I’ll call you tomorrow.”  
  
The soft laugh and dreamy hum before she hung up told him everything he needed to know. And for the first time in months, Erik didn’t mind the alarm clock that woke him in the morning. Every day was a day closer to having her.


	3. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I love me some Kerik. And y'all knew the Daroga had to make an appearance.

“Fuck! Va te faire foutre! охуеть! Avazi ashghale bishoore kesafat!”

Nadir sighed as he stood in the doorway. “This would be over if you just said you were sorry.”

Erik spat in his direction in response before letting out a strangled sob. He was shaking violently, only being held up by the thick cording binding him to the vertical board. Nadir rolled his eyes and said nothing, just waiting.

This had all started yesterday, when Erik had decided to open his mouth when the Khanum had insulted him. She meant it mostly in jest, but ever the thin-skinned type - and the type to always need the last word - Erik talked back. This was the third time in a month, and the Shah was minutes away from slitting the masked man’s throat for the disrespect. Nadir had tried to get Erik to apologize, but it was in vain, as it always was.

This time, however, Erik wasn’t getting away from it. The Khanum wanted to see Erik learn his lesson, but she really did like the strange man for reasons Nadir did not understand in the least.So, after dinner, the chief of police and the Shah’s mother had sat over tea to discuss a proper punishment. The woman was wise: Erik wouldn’t respond to pain. Even though the young man was vague about his past exploits, it was clear he had been through more than his fair share of pain. And he was half-insane already, so psychological torture wouldn’t work either.

Which is how Erik had found himself tied to a board, unable to move a muscle, while two concubines had their mouths battling over his cock.

They had been at this for nearly four hours. Erik had awoken naked in the small room, occupied only by the board he was tied to and a large mirror. Nadir asked him once more if he would apologize to the Khanum. Even under the mask, Nadir could read the smirk on his face as he refused. A snap of his fingers, and Nadir summoned two scantily clad concubines, both dripping with jewelry and fine silks. They had been paid more than their fair share to take on the task at hand, and they were happy to oblige the Khanum.

He had been cocky the first few minutes, taunting The Daroga. “You want to punish me with sex? Ha! Please, Nadir, you cannot torture the torturer!”

Nadir snarled and folded his arms as Erik’s head fell back against the plank. Somewhere deep down, Nadir knew the skeleton of a man would have a crisis over this. He probably was right at that moment, but he couldn’t show that weakness now. No, Erik let his head fall back as the skilled tongues of the near-naked women wreaked slow, gentle pleasure into him. And just as he had started to relax, they stopped.

It was about a half dozen cycles before Erik caught onto the torture, and a dozen before he had asked Nadir to let up. Surely, he was joking! Erik meant nothing by the comment and this was highly unusual. But Nadir said nothing. He stood there, arms crossed, face neutral as he observed. He had seen Erik naked before - a hazard of being a traveling companion - but he had never really looked. Now seeing him, panting and muttering curses, it was something new.

Erik wasn’t as thin as when they had first met. Something about the warmer climate, plentiful food, and near limitless freedoms had turned the emaciated skeleton into a slightly healthier looking man. His skin was no longer sallow and pale as the moon, but had tanned in the warm sun to a healthier color. His hair was long and swept up into a loose braid that he undid and retied when he was anxious. His muscles were defined as though he had no fat on his bones whatsoever. As much as Nadir hated to admit it, the way the veins raised under his arms and on his neck as he strained sent a thrill to his core. And his cock… Nadir had never been one to stare or think of such things, but the sight of his shaven groin, manhood hard as steel under the influence of torture, was a thing of beauty.

In that moment, Nadir vowed to never let Erik know how beautiful he truly was.

After an hour, he was hissing and cursing and threatening the girls who knelt at his feet. They got bored occasionally, so they found joy in kissing and licking up his legs to his nipples and leaving bites along his skin. While initially he was shocked at their brazen behavior, perhaps the only reason none of them wanted Erik before was that they were fearful of him. Perhaps they were all curious about the Khanum’s little monstrous pet… Well, these two would have a years worth of stories.

Finally, Erik roared, the sound inhuman as if he were possessed by a demon. The girls backed off in fear as Erik’s golden eyes slowly met Nadir’s dark ones. He was sweating, shaking, cock nearly purple from his need to orgasm. His need to cum… Nadir steeled himself. No matter what, he’d get to watch the show.

“Nadir… _Please_.”

The older man’s eyebrows nearly shot to his hairline. Since when did Erik say please? He cleared his throat. “Apologize to the Khanum and beg forgiveness.”

He hissed as one of the girls crawled forward and sunk his cock deep into her throat. Between pants and shudders, he managed, “Then let me, ngh, go… I swear, I’ll - AGH - I’ll apologize!”

Nadir smirked and reached behind him. Suddenly, the mirror was replaced by a window. One way glass, an invention of Erik’s design, used against him. His upper body was flushed with redness as he saw who sat there; The Khanum, looking like the cat who had caught the canary. She grinned and tapped her fingers together.

Erik was hesitating, fighting himself between embarrassment and insatiable need for the torture to be over. When he said nothing, he was brought to the brink again with his cock deep, deep in the concubine’s throat. He nearly, nearly finished himself, but the other girl grasped firmly around his base before he could.

He swore sharply before gritting his teeth. “I’m _sorry_! I’m sorry I said what I said.”

Unable to help himself, Nadir licked his lips at the sight of Erik so desperate. “And?”  
  
“And- NGH!” Erik let out a weak moan, golden eyes brimming with tears behind the mask. “And I beg your forgiveness. I beg it twofold. For - Fuck! - for dealing with my imp-p-petulance and, ngggh, for having to s-see me like THIS!”

Those girls were worth every coin they had been paid. After a long moment, the Khanum laughed. “Daroga, let the man go. I don’t like to break my toys. Besides… I have seen _more_ than enough.”

Nadir snapped his fingers again and the girls went to work one final time, this time not stopping for a moment. They had to work for barely another five minutes before he let out a shout and came. The older man found himself hypnotized by the sight of Erik’s cock jerking the milky white liquid onto the floor. He came and came for what felt like nearly a full minute before slumping forward in his restraints.

Nadir shooed the girls from the room before undoing his friend from the bindings. Immediately, the naked torturer fell into his arms, head cradled against his shoulders. Erik attempted to mutter something, likely cursing his family line, but could not manage it. Instead, Nadir wrapped him in a cloak and carried him back to their shared flat.

As he laid him down into bed, Erik clung to him firmly. Getting the idea after a moment, the Daroga sighed and laid in bed beside the exhausted man. No, Erik would not be useful for two days at the least. And yet, for the first time since the two had met, Erik slept soundly.


End file.
